


Diablo: Path of the Necrosader

by MoonlightSoldier



Series: Diablo 3 retold [1]
Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo 2, diablo 3 - Fandom
Genre: Crusader - Freeform, Demons, Diablo - Freeform, Earth, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Necrosader, Nephalem, Original Character - Freeform, necromancer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightSoldier/pseuds/MoonlightSoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own take of the story both between Diablo 2 and 3, as well as a mild retelling of the third game. Adrian Taylor, born a nephalem and gifted with the ability to see and communicate with the dead, answers the call to action when the blue meteor is seen crashing into earth. However due to his unique upbringing of both necromancer and crusader teachings, it causes a number of things to be quite different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The end of the earth stone

**Author's Note:**

> The story will remain similar with key things changed, also alot of this is from memory as I havn't played diablo three in probably two years, so no, it will not be 100% correct. I never intended that in the first place to begin with to be honest, this is my own spin on the story.

At the base of Mt.Ariet, a red portal opens up and out steps through a man dressed in the bones of slain demons and chain-mail. Behind him followed an army of skeleton warriors and mages, his loyal army. With a deep breath he took a few steps away from the portal in the harsh blizzard and turned. He could bairly make out the summit of the mountain in the blizzard, but the bright light could be distinguished for leagues away. The necromancer and other heroes had recently slain Baal, the third and last of the three prime evils, but not before he could corrupt the world stone, the mythical gem that held the fabrics of the world in place, or so people believed. The light at the top grew brighter as the energies swelled, and the Necromancer soon had a feeling in his stomach. Run! Cried a voice in his head. He turned and started sprinting as hard as he could, while the arch angel Tyreal, the being that is destroying the world stone, teleported him to a safe distance, there was still no accounting just how far debris would fly. Suddenly the light vanished for what felt like a moment, before exploding, illuminating the land, visible from across the very oceans. The land split and cracked open half way up the mountain, creating a massive crater. The necromancer didn't care for anything except making distance as molten rock and ancient architecture rained around him. Finding a cave he made a dive inside of it for shelter.

Minutes pass like hours as debris finally stop falling. The necromancer waits a few minutes more just to be sure, before stepping out of the cave. The summit of Mt.Ariet was gone, A massive crater in it's place. "May the dead find peace at last, now that evil has been purged from these lands." The Necromancer says, looking at his own small army. With a wave of his hand, he released them all, allowing the souls to move onto the next realm. Leaving the cave he begins his journey out of the snow-blasted landscape of the mountain. However, without his army, he was blind in the blizzard and unable to see one of his former allies. He walked forward, arm raised to shield his eyes when he heard the snow being packed down behind him. Too late to react as he turned and claws rip straight through his armor, a second claw digs into his flesh and knocks into the snow below.

A werewolf walked over top of him, growling. Hatred was in it's eyes, radiating like twin flames in the cold of the blizzard. As if slipping out of a costume, the wolf fur fell off like water, turning into dust and vanishing as the Druid returned to his human state. "I didn't think I would find your scent so soon, defiler..." The druid growled, pressing his foot onto the chest wound of his once comrade. "Just because you aided in the deaths of the prime evils does not mean we are friends, let alone allies anymore. Your kind should be doomed to extinction like the demons whom inspire you."

"Your blind, Druid..." The Necromancer replies, coughing blood. "You... you have always been blind... to the history... the dead can bring."

"You enslave the souls of the dead into your minions, to do your bidding!" The druid cried out, stomping on his chest. "Your as sinful as the demons you have slain, ill personally see that you join them in the hell fires below." The Druid takes out a sword, holding it reverse-grip and readies to stab the necromancer. A shield flies out from the snow, striking the druid's weapon and knocking it out of view. Turning, he expected to see the paladin walk out of the blizzard. 'Why would the paladin, a holy warrior of all people, come to the aid of a necromancer?" Out from the snow stepped out not the black paladin he had adventured with, but a woman, tall and powerfully built with a shield as tall as her, and a two headed flail. She held the flail with one hand as if it were a feather, but the handle and the size of the flail heads clearly indicated a two handed weapon.

"Withdraw from him, or face the divine wrath of a crusader!" The woman challenged, having not heard the conversation that had taken place. The druid growled, normally he would reply to the challenge, but the fight with Baal left him weakened. Before the crusader could do anything more, the druid turned back into the werewolf and fled, leaving the two alone. Putting her weapons away, she walked over to see the necromancer breathing heavily. "Your mortally wounded... but I might be able to save you..." She knelt down and noticed the construction of his armor. "Hmm... a necromancer... I should leave you here, but without knowing who you are, that would be unjust and unfair." She said to herself and picked up his body, before turning around and retracing her steps.


	2. of Heaven and Hell

The necromancer slowly opened his eyes, at first believing he was dead. The smell of a wood fire made him think hell, when he realized it should be burning brimstone, not wood. He tried to sit up and that was his first mistake as pain roared through him like a bullet train. He eased himself back down and groaned, taking his left hand he gently touched his bandaged chest. "It was a serious injury." A woman spoke from nearby. "You almost didn't make it, the wound went deep, past the muscles. Your very lucky that I had so many health potions on me to keep you alive while I stitched your chest shut, but I recommend your fighting days to be over."

Turning his head, which still took effort alone from the pain, he saw the crusader that saved his life. She was grinding herbs into a vat to add the the pot that was over the flame in the fire place. He could make out the sound of a blizzard assaulting the wooden frame of the cabin. The woman gets up and walks over to the pot and adds the mixture, stirring it all together. She was dressed in wolf fur, and a silk gown laced with fur underneath, seemingly of high born status, like royalty or a countess. She scooped up some of the soup and walked over. "Can you move your arms?" The man tried and just had eough strength to move them, but it hurt to do so, however he was able to take the bowl into his own hands and took a taste. "It's a medicinal soup, it will help your body recover faster." She explained before going back to scoop herself a bowl.

"Why... did you save me?" The man finally spoke and she paused her movements for a moment. "Your a paladin are you not?" He asked, his memory a blur. The woman chuckled lightly at the questions and shook her head. "What are you then?"

"I cannot say you are completely wrong, my association started alongside the paladins, however they have been... wavering." She replied as she finished scooping up a bowl. "I am a crusader, we started as brothers and sisters to the paladins, but our two orders went separate ways." She explained. "We have a higher level of devotion, and have no central gathering grounds. Truth of the matter is that I am over centuries of age."

"I don't believe that for an instant." The necromancer replied and the woman laughed.

"I Jest, of course I am not so old, but my name is."

"Your name?" The necromancer replied, even more confused. The woman sighed and took a deep breath to begin her explanation.

"Our order started the same time the paladin order did, hundreds of years ago. Where as the paladins were more of a classic organization, recruit followers and train them much like an army, our order was different. We gathered our original numbers, but instead of branching out to add to our numbers, we decided to keep our numbers where they were. Thus we began the tradition, of passing on our very names." She smiled as she walked over and took a seat next to the necromancer. "My name is Aliza, my tutor was Adrian, of course Adrian doesn't translate onto a woman, so we have the alternative. Should I one day find my apprentice, he or she shall adopt the name when I pass on, and inherit my equipment and my knowledge, thus it has been so for generations, more so then I can count."

"But why?" The necromancer replied. "Why have the same numbers and only the same numbers when you can expand your teachings?"

"Quality over quantity my friend, something many necromancers normally fail to grasp." The man winced at the lashing of his pride. "By focusing on only one, apprentice, we can gaurante that all of our knowledge, and the knowledge of our predecessors, pass on. That way, techniques and skills continue to grow, making us champions in our own right." As she spoke she seemed to swell in pride before clearing her throat. "Of course we do follow discipline, we can't become too arrogant. That being said, of course we have to make sure that the apprentice we choose will make a strong candidate."

"I had an apprentice before I left on this journey, but I doubt I will see him now." The necromancer said softly, his normally dark voice sounding a bit saddened. "At least my order won't die off so soon."

"What do you mean?" She said, looking towards him. The necromancer laughed at that response, shaking his head.

"I'm a necromancer, my order has been hunted down as demon worshippers for generations, our order is facing extinction. When Diablo arrived I saw it as a chance to show this world were not evil, we never intended to be evil. Prejudice clearly knows no bounds... the druid you saw, my supposed ally... as soon as Baal was slain, he tried to kill me as you saw." He replied. "He hasn't gotten to the level I wantd him too and he probably never will, but he knows enough to get by at least, I made sure of that." Aliza looked at him, for a necromancer his heart didn't seem to be clouded by darkness, unlike a few she had encountered on her travels.

"Well... perhaps they can't all be evil..." She said, sounding a little unsure. "It's kind of difficult to put away a prejudice that's been around for so long." She replied, looking down at her bowl. "Well... you go ahead and rest, eat up then go back to sleep, you still need alot of time to recover." The necromancer nodded and she got up to put more wood on the fire.

"Also..." He called out as Aliza turned to look at him. "My name... it's Millard."


	3. Even death can create life

Aliza looked after Millard's well being, caring for his health as the blizzard continued on. They passed the time, sharing stories of adventure they had been on. Aliza was finding herself rather entranced by the necromancer, who had proven her wrong about many stereotypes she had about his order. Millard, although he did practice the dark arts and did have a fascination with the darker powers, always made sure he did what was correct to others. He only used the souls and corpses of demons to raise the dead, never humans. His regard for human life was very similar too her own as well, that it was precious and needed careful raising.

However the story that caught her attention most was about an old manuscript he had discovered purely by accident while in the realms of hell. It belonged to a succubus that he said, apparently, wished to escape hell and avoid the timeless conflict. Later when Millard and the others left hell, believing for the time being that they had saved the world, he sought out the demon. The journey ended up taking him back to the jungles of Ku'rast where he discovered a hidden path leading along the coast line. Following the trail he came upon a cavern that had been dug out and inspected it. He told Aliza that the demon had been slain in her home, clutching a letter of angelic origin. It seemed she had been slain by demons that had attacked the jungle prior to their arrival.

The letter she held was a love letter from an angel who claimed to have been alive since before the earth stone had been created. It explained that a large number of angels and demons had once fled their realms to avoid the conflict that would only end with time. They created a new world, one that they could call their own and called it Sanctuary. He had wished to try and rebuild that lost era, where peace between heaven and hell could have been a reality. The letter went to great lengths about how the angel loved the demon, but it was torn before it was finished, the last eligible word on the manuscript was 'nephilim'. As Millard went to leave, he found an angel, heavily wounded, sword in hand. He challenged Millard, believing he was there to defile his lovers body. A brief fight and Millard was able to disarm the angel, and two skeletons pinned him to a wall, allowing Millard to explain that he had no such intentions.

The angel then broke into tears for his lost lover, saying he couldn't defend her and failed her. Millard watched and pitied the angel and shook his head. He then noticed that his wound was deeper then first glance, and he was suffering internal bleeding. Millard realized he would die soon, yet the angel never seemed to take notice of his own condition. Millard left the small cave and made camp outside, allowing the angel his last moments to grieve for his lover. It wasn't long when he sensed the soul of the angel leave his body, so he walked back down and used his magic to make the angel's spirit visible. That's when he saw tracks, another necromancer had stolen her soul. With a deep breath, Millard followed the trail, he wouldn't allow this kind of torture happen to these two.

It was a week before Millard found what he was looking for. Deeper then any maps had even recorded, he found a small stone tower in the middle of a bog. The surrounding area was teeming with rotting undead and soulless machinations brought to life. The angel's soul looked on, and looked at the top of the tower, as if he could see his lover trapped within. Millard described the battle as rather simple compaired to the trials he had just encountered, the soulless machinations had no will in them to fight, and the necromancer himself had no idea how to command his own army.

It was here Aliza paused his story for a moment, the storm had finally subsided. The telling of his story had lasted a few days, enough for the storm to break, if not temporarily, and his chest wound had healed enough for him to travel again. They packed up their things and got ready to leave the cabin in the mountains. "So tell me again, why did you want to reunite a demon with an angel? Wouldn't she have corrupted him? You said she was a succubus, they trick men into believing they love them, filling their mind with lofty fantasies."

"Why would a demon be assassinated by her own kind?" He replied, holding up a small blade of demonic nature. "This is the evidence I have, this was the blade that had been left in her heart, it's made by hells blacksmith. The edge is tipped with a poison specifically for demons, the ingredients for such can only be harvested by other succubi." He put the knife away "however it's already been used and is useless other then for a trinket, and evidence of my story."

Continuing where he left his story, he recounted facing down the opposing necromancer. It was there he learned that this necromancer didn't focus on his minions as he did his magic, and could fire energy blasts drained from souls he had stolen. Millard decided that, instead of slaying the necromancer, he would remove his reserves, and so faster then his opponent could react, he used the bodies of the dead to reanimate skeletons, before banishing them, making their souls pass into the next world. Finally it came down to one soul, the soul of the succubi that had been stolen. Millard anticipated that it would be used last, and used the strongest necromancer art he could muster: Temporary revival. Using nothing but the demons very soul, he was able to recraft her body from essentially nothing, draining Millard very heavily in the process.

The succubi, given new form, looked around her as memories of her time dead rushed into her mind. She glared angrily at the necromancer that had tried to enslave her and slew him without remorse. Millard collapsed, completely drained of energy. The succubus looked at him and walked over, helping him into a chair, fully aware he was to thank for her rescue. Millard explained what had happened to her lover, and she cried softly. She could already feel the magic in her temporary body fading, her skin color fading to a pail, transparent blue. That was when she saw the soul of her lover, and the angel embraced her as they were both spirits. Millard smiled and passed out in the seat, knowing the two moved on towards the next realm together.

"When I woke up there was writing etched into the floor, simple saying 'thank you'" Millard said, ending his story. "After that I went back and met up with Deckard Cain who alerted me to Baal's presence and we left for Ah'riat." Aliza smiled, it had been another week as they travelled and they were camping under a tree in a vast field, a scene of peace and tranquility, the sky clear and the stars sparkled.

"You did so much for the love of two..." She said softly, wearing a dark blue gown. "Your full of many surprises for a necromancer Millard, I never expect one to be so... caring, even towards the dead." She said softly, a hand resting lightly upon her chest. She looked up to the sky, her mind mildly conflicted, this was a necromancer, her order was sworn to slay such people. Yet this man was so different, so just even in such darkness. Making up her mind, she rolled, lightly pressing herself on top of him, causing a very confused 'oomph' from him. "Millard... I... I came to a decision..." Millard didn't have any words to reply with, caught entirely off guard, but he didn't reject what she wished to share that night.


End file.
